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 Apr 2011 Lucan
Mary Ann Osgood
A knot is tied using my small intestine,
but I keep forgetting the reason
for my ultimate indigestion.
So if she will touch me any softer,
I'll let her into those inner-workings
that cloud me with thoughts of her,
but I swallow them and am left choking on copper
like a child eating pennies for an easy dollar.

She comes and goes in patterns,
keeping the shades drawn
and letting newspapers pile on the lawn
as she blows sultry smoke
from her cracked bedroom window.
And I know she's feeling low,
but I wish she would throw me a bone—
or at least something to gnaw on.

I'm choking on words caught somewhere
between my stomach and lips,
feeling bare; naked, counting the tips
that were tucked slowly into the underwear
wrapped in lace around my hips,
trying to remember the last time
that I—or she—was happy.
 Apr 2011 Lucan
Mary Ann Osgood
the air beneath my feet is rotting from within
felt through thick skin,
underlying feelings.
I can taste your words beneath my tongue and on my bottom lip.

I swim to float,
to fall for eternity where I can be caught
to whisper secrets and not be heard.
It works with dancing and breathing, too
feels like lightning
sounds like thunder
dances like rain.

When I come home to an empty house tomorrow,
I will smell of him
and of his mother,
but I will wash it away with Downy
while I drink until I am thirsty.
The cat’s gone out for coffee,
leaving me to wonder where I’ve hidden all my mouse traps.

Sometimes there are reasons,
but mostly there are not.
 Apr 2011 Lucan
Mary Ann Osgood
*** was the beginning
when a baby became a whale,
skin like diamonds and cotton candy.
They left their son early,
drank many colors and tasted the seven wonders,
breathing slowly so as not to wake the gods.

Their potatoes turned to meat and tasted saltier than usual.
Once at the bar, they drank nicotine
with their eyelashes.
God told them, "*******!"
and they touched each other on the knee
because abstinence from *** feels like cotton mouth.

They stole their child's heart
because they needed a second chance,
but they kept the body to feel less like aliens.
They lost reality in words,
unspoken or spoken.
Their son listened through his eyes,
regretful of his age and of the times.

They began to feel their actions more softly,
taking deeper breaths and
moving in slow motion.
The thoughts made their skin heavier,
their chins began to wrinkle,
their touches became cold,
and the only way to feel warm was to
 Apr 2011 Lucan
Mary Ann Osgood
let them slip,
                                       drip,
                                                           ­     fall...
as if part of a melting popsicle that drops to the cement
and leaves my face strewn with salty sadness.
I drew elaborate stories in her sandbox,
I told her the secret to being an adult as a child.

there was a tarantula in Martin's shoe
when you left,
                        not your fault for not seeing,
         your eyes were too shamefully stuck on the floor.

I've stopped thinking that moment is everything;
there are so many more:

His hand in mine, comforting and sweet
but just as exciting as when our legs touched,
painting my balance beam in swirling colors,
playing dress up in my mother's wedding gown,
almost breaking my tail bone in hysterical laughter,
singing in front of hundreds with no butterflies--
                               (not even moths!)
Tasting raspberries after a month of just cantaloupe,
knowing that you'll miss me as much as I miss you.

Everyone loses someone who they never want to leave,
but I've learned to
                                        
                                               let you  go.
                                                        ­        *every single one of you.
 Apr 2011 Lucan
Mary Ann Osgood
simple reminders:
beach towels,
mustaches,
grilled vegetables
beetles,
time.
 Apr 2011 Lucan
Mary Ann Osgood
No swing, no ding
no kool-aid mix for my *****,
my car's stuck in a ditch
I'm off to Norway
for my holiday
to see a band play
and visit my grandma on her birthday
where we hired a magician
but she didn't like it because she's a mathematician
and a *****
she hates dudes
she'll make calculations just to be rude
and spit in your food when you're not done eating
she's always repeating
different sayings
or her high school day-dreams
and whispering things you can't make out.

Forget it, I dread it
the day is looming
like the shadow of a blooming
sunflower,
I've lost my power
and my will
and the money to pay my bills
all because of the chill
you sent down my spine
that one time
when I said it was okay
but it wasn't.
 Apr 2011 Lucan
Mary Ann Osgood
I can't ******* tell if you're squinting or not.
I am, and I can't even see any better.
When I have trouble breathing it helps to close my eyes,
I imagine the stars, and I imagine death.
The sun is beautiful when asleep.

I keep trying to hold your hand and you don't get it.
I thought we already established that we're in love.
I guess if I had any courage I would have less trouble speaking.
But I can't sleep when you're breathing so loudly.
My mind is more alive when I'm gone.

Consciousness is a dry topic to those whose concern is ego,
but neither one of us knows what either one of those means.
So stop pretending like you do and be admittedly in the dark.
I keep finding it pointless to talk.
I see more with the back of my head than with my hands.

Everything's a mystery at this point.
I'm getting so huge that I can't see my feet.
I guess you could say it's a problem,
I see it more as a pathway.
Each pound is a streetlight that goes dark on my walk home.
 Apr 2011 Lucan
Mary Ann Osgood
Dry tongues make for slow lies,
you prefer to use yours for kissing.
I can feel morsels of clam
between my nails, beneath the skin
but never touching—
that's impossible.

the time that counted your whiskers is still ticking,
and I am beginning to think you lied about being a cat
all I hear are dance beats in my shower.

it's not working any more to be red than it is to be any other color.
I'd gladly paint you
I'd gladly tell you exactly what you don't want to hear
even though it's not something I'm particularly good at
(it takes practice)
like ****** ******* with someone you don't love
or laying still.

there are people like you with ***** gym socks, who kiss their friends' older brothers,
who are always too late, who love something separate, who are small,
who forget to feed their cats,
who never say sorry,
who never say excuse me,
who never eat,
who never breathe,
who never remember.

tell those people for me:
if there is a time where no speech is readily available,
speak of something sad, or something incorrect.
ears are never ready to hear something they don't want to
they build up immunity
like blood cells,
but not really.

I must say, your skin looks nice when you lie,
we do like all the same things,
and have all the same mannerisms,
you are handsome,
I am gentile,
we are alone.
use six words.

I will gladly paint you any color,
as long as you supply the paint.
 Apr 2011 Lucan
grace bryson
little bird girl
keep flying east.
if you soar quickly,
no rain can dampen your wings.

little bird girl
hide behind your feathers.
keep your head down,
as the sun scorches in your joy
and the moon glimmers in your despair.

little bird girl
nurture that tree of yours.
your supposed home.
remember, the damage has been done.
your bare breast proves it,
an imprint.

little bird girl
don’t take my advice.
for i am you
and we are just a little girl.
no wings for flying,
grounded to the earth.
 Apr 2011 Lucan
Leonie Adams
Light at each point was beating then to flight,
The sapling bark flushed upward, and the welling
Tips of the wood touched, touched at the bound,
And boughs were slight and burdened beyond telling
Toward that caress of the boughs a summer’s night,
Illimitable in fragrance and in sound.


Here were the blue buds, earlier than hope,
Unnumbered, beneath the leaves, a breath apart,
Wakening in root-dusk. When the air went north,
Lifting the oakleaves from the northern *****,
Their infinite young tender eyes looked forth.
Here all that was, was frail to bear a heart.
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